


The Red Robe

by Again_n_Again



Category: Pynch - Fandom, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Finally hooking up, Hook-Up, M/M, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Again_n_Again/pseuds/Again_n_Again
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU story that starts off from the church scene in "B.L, L.B.".</p><p>Ronan said " Maybe I haven’t always been clear about that, but..”<br/>Adam laughed, loud, hearty and rich.<br/>“Clear? Are you kidding me right now?”<br/>Ronan’s voice was rising now, getting louder and faster with each word. “Yeah well…I got to be honest, I never expected this! (He waved his hands around, not able to put their actions into words.) “I may not have been a fucking crystal ball or anything, but you! Who knows what you are!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Robe

1

Ronan couldn’t watch his own death; the way he squirmed, the agony and disgrace of it all. He wanted to pretend that he didn’t really care, but when he moved out of sight of his dream double, he knew what he really was feeling was cowardice. By the way the sun shone into the church Ronan knew he must have been dreaming a long time, but Adam still wasn't moving, just staring unblinking into that flame. _Damn!_ He thought. _Good thing I didn’t need any help or anything!_ Ronan curled into one of the furthermost pews on the other side of the balcony, as far away as he could get from the nearly departing. It still wasn’t far enough. Ronan couldn’t shut out the pitiful sounds it made, he made...the gasping, the cries in his own voice. He shook his head, but the sounds buried themselves in his mind anyway. He knew he would hear them again later. He had to stay cool. At least from this spot he could keep an eye on Adam in case he needed help. Ronan laid down low enough in the pew so he could still see the top of Adam's head, and none of his dream double. A moment later a loud cry came from the back of the church. Shivers ran over Ronan’s body like dread. It was a long death. Adam stirred.

 

When Adam heard the call coming from somewhere behind him in the church, he knew he had to pull himself back. He had been scrying, staring into the flame of a candle under a Mary effigy, but wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been standing there. He knew he had to get back to himself and out of Cabeswater. Slowly he started to feel his body again, his toes, his stinging eyes; and then all at once he heard Ronan's choking strangled moans. They pierced him like an ice pick. When he last left Ronan he was laying peacefully on the church pew, ready and willing to create dream things - ready to frame Greenmantle for a murder he didn't commit (though they were sure he was responsible for many). Ronan didn’t look anything like that now. His body was contorted, bloody, a twisted mess of ragged skin and broken bone. Ronan squirmed on the floor, unable to make his body move right, he raked at his own throat. Ronan whimpered and writhed. It was a terrible thing. “Oh God!” Adam cried. “Oh God! Ronan NO!” He ran to him.

____________________________________________________________________________

Ronan saw Adam'd face crumple and then run to his dream double, but as he was laying down on the far side of the balcony, and probably because Adam was moving in a panicked rush, he did not notice Ronan watching him. Ronan started to call Adam's name, but stopped. Something about the way Adam was falling to his knees. He looked devastated. There was actual, real grief painting Adam's face, contorting it wretchedly. Ronan wasn’t sure why he was shocked, but he was. He knew he would go mad with grief if he lost one of his friends - having to watch them die, but seeing Adam hunched over his body like this made Ronan feel a little off balance, like the world suddenly got fuzzy. He stood up, just in time to clearly see dream Ronan take his last breath. It was over now. Finally.

Again, he tried to call for Adam but before he could manage a sound Adam shouted out.  
“No! Dammit, Ronan! …”  
He was shaking the body now. Something in the real Ronan's still beating heart stuttered and tugged deep in his belly. Seeing Adam suffer was awful, his guts were twisting watching it unfold. But he had no voice, he couldn’t make a sound. Something about Adam’s grief muted him. He had to get to him; Ronan shuffled around the pews, trying to reach Adam quickly, needing to reassure him. For just a moment, Ronan lost sight of them around the pews, but when he finally made it to the end of a long row, and was able to see Adam’s crouched form again, all the saliva in his mouth dried up, a large lump of coal sticking in his throat.  
_FUCK THIS!_ he thought. His heart ached to see it.  
There was Adam, his body curled around what he thought was a now deceased Ronan. He held both of dream Ronan’s hands tight in his own, _(Had he died in Adams arms?)_ and was pulling them close to his chest, pressing them over his heart. Adam leaned down and brushed his lips across the other Ronan's blood smeared forehead. Ronan could hear Adam’s strangled whispers. “Not you...” he said. “You were the only one….the one who…” but a deep sob cut off the rest of whatever he was going to say. Ronan was stone, he was petrified rock, he had stood in this spot in this church for a thousand years, and would be here for a thousand more. He could do nothing else, so he stared. Ronan stared at the pitiful pair with wide eyes, watching as Adam laid his cheek against dream Ronan’s cheek, his knuckles white with the intensity at which he gripped dream Ronan’s hands. His eyes were closed, long lashes webbed with tears that flowed steadily down his face.

 _Shit!_ Ronan thought. _What the Fuck! What can I say now?_  
His hands were shaking - he couldn’t calm them. His mind was all static, and he struggled to pull anything logical or even reasonable to say to the foreground. So he went into default mode.

“Geeze Parrish!” He said, going for cool detachment (but the shaking in his voice betrayed him). “A little  _much_  don't you think? But thanks for the ego boost.”  
Ronan attempted his usual tight cocky grin, but it didn’t seem to fit right on his face. He gave it his best try anyway.

Adam’s neck strained and he looked up, his red eyes wide, taking in Ronan, whole and standing before him, grinning down at him like the whole world wasn’t just rocked off its axis. He looked down again, then up, from one Ronan to the next. He sniffed in from his nose, wiping snot and tears off onto his sleeve. He looked confused, too many emotions coursing through his body, but as realization settled down on him, one won out.  
“He’s … a dream thing?” Adam asked, but he already knew. Adam was a pot about to bubble over.  
Ronan just grinned slyly and shot finger pistols at him. “Now, you’re getting it."

Adam shook his head. Poison was pumping through his veins now and he was trying to think through it. There was no room in him for embarrassment, only anger, fierce and hungry. He looked one last time at the corpse beside him, noticed how he was still cradling the body. Adam just lowered his head, let his arms and hands release the battered body, and then, still trying to hold himself together, clenched his fists at his side. He took several deep breaths, but they were ragged and uneven.  
Ronan took note and unconsciously took a step backwards. The balcony railing, however, was behind him, preventing further retreat. Adam stood slowly, agonizingly controlled, like a lion on the hunt; he looked primitive, wild; he was a lava field popping and hissing and spreading out. Ronan squirmed, not used to feeling so unsure of how to act.  
Any other day, Adam would’ve been able to notice the apology written on Ronan’s face. Any other day, Adam would have been able to see the hint of unease, the fear etched into the set of Ronan's jaw – maybe even, if it was any other day, he could have appreciated the fact that he was able to unsettle someone like Ronan Lynch, but not today. He could see nothing through the blinding red. Adam said nothing. He just stood, unblinking, his eyes blazing against the sallow caverns of his face.

Ronan couldn’t stand it. “Common Parrish, I didn’t mean…” he started, but before he could finish Adam charged at him, knocking Ronan’s back into the balcony railing behind him, wrenching Ronan’s tank in his fists, and pinning him to the spot.  
“How...How could you?” Adam growled. “How DARE YOU!” He shouted even louder.  
Ronan tried to push him away, move through his grasp, but he couldn’t. Adam was ablaze, a bonfire of fear and anger and adrenaline, and he held Ronan fast.  
Ronan turned his head away, Adam was too close, and he was unable to meet his eyes. A small part of him registered just how high the balcony was, and how viciously his spine was jammed across the metal bar.  
Adam pushed him again, harder this time and Ronan winced. The bar bit into his bones again.

“LOOK AT ME!” Adam shouted. “Did you think this would be funny? Some big fucked up joke?”

Ronan tried to push him away again, but Adam’s fists twisted, digging into the skin under his thin black tank, he slammed him backwards again.

“Shit man!” Ronan hissed.  
“Fuck you Ronan! Fuck you!”  
They were practically nose to nose now. The air between them tacky and warm.  
Adam’s breath came out heavy and Ronan knew he was struggling to control the anger coursing through him.  
“No!” Ronan finally answered. His voice sounded younger somehow.

“No! It was the only way I could...you think I’d want to make that? Dream that?”  
He looked into Adam's eyes. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.  
But still Adam's stare was too intense, Ronan had to cast his eyes back down. Adam’s chest was heaving. He hissed “I thought you were dead! I held your broken, limp body - and I couldn’t…” Adam’s voice broke then, and the sound was sharper than any claws Ronan ever felt. “I just, couldn't.” Adam finished.  
“I know man, its fine. I’m here.” Ronan’s words started to fly out, like he was a kid again and going to confession. “He was a dream thing. I was attacked, and they wouldn’t let me leave, not without something...they wanted me. They wouldn’t let me leave.” Desperation laced his words. He wanted Adam to understand.

Ronan finally chanced a look into Adam’s eyes then, searching, and saw some of the fury dissipating. Adam’s hands loosened from Ronan’s’ tank and with one unsteady hand he reached up as if he was going to touch Ronan’s cheek, like he needed to feel that he was real. Adam hesitated.  
Ronan inhaled sharply, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He felt like he must be shaking, but he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was Adam. He was so close.

 

Adam watched Ronan close his eyes, saw the delicate purple veins mapping his eyelids, studied the sharp, beautiful lines of his face - and now that his temper had calmed enough, finally saw the fear there too. It hadn’t really been an accident, per se, just a terrible choice Ronan had to make. He understood, and the rest of his anger evaporated. Just as quick as it had come, it went. His limbs felt mushy, like he’d been a blown up balloon that just lost all its air. His knees shook.  
Without thinking, without anything else in the world but a real living and breathing Ronan, right here, Adam closed that gap between them. Only a hairsbreadth separated their bodies. Adam reached up and placed his hand, still covered with blood on Ronan’s cheek.

He was warm, he was real.  
He was warm, he was real.  
He was warm, he was real.

At the touch Ronan stiffened. Adam noticed; his body ached and cursed him for letting the rest of the world filter back in. His mind raced to catch up. He was still caressing Ronan’s cheek, one finger dipping behind his ear, touching the scruff of his hair. Ronan’s eyes were slammed shut, out of fear? His breaths were frantic and shallow, his whole body rigid and arched back. Adam was shocked to realize that this was because he was pressing so hard into him now. Ronan had to physically bend backwards over the balcony just to keep their noses from being mashed together. When did he move into him this way? He couldn’t remember, but his body was angled aggressively, territorially, over Ronan's. Though his torso was bent back, Ronan's legs were pinned, and Adam could feel all of them beneath him. Their glorious length and strength. Their feet and legs were intertwined, while their thighs were pressed so tightly together that Adam could feel Ronan’s hip bone slicing into his gut.  
And worst of all - worst of all, was Adam's other hand. It was splayed wide pressing directly over Ronan’s wildly beating heart.

Adam swallowed hard. He took a deep breath, but it felt as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. All the oxygen kept whooshing back out of him...Iike a punch, like defeat.

He stepped back, but Ronan didn’t move. His hands were still white knuckling the railing behind him, but slowly - slowly he regained his posture. Though, instead of standing tall as usual, he slouched, shoulders hunched over in exhaustion. The coiled springs of his body relaxing.

 _Oh no._ Adam thought.

____________________________________________________________________________

When Ronan opened his eyes, Adam was standing less than a yard away. He felt the riot in his body, and was sure Adam must have sensed what was pulsating through him. He was sure men in the space station must have been able see it. It raged in him, polluted him.  
When he looked at Adam, lovely, strong Adam who looked so tired, so sad, Ronan knew that this too was his fault. Everything was his fault. God, he hated himself.

He forced himself to talk, even though he didn’t trust it to come out even. It didn’t.  
“Listen Parrish, I’m sorry. But I got it all done. We’ll have everything we need. You go now. I’ll handle….this.”

Adam was just looking down at his own shaking hands. Ronan couldn’t watch him like this. It was too much.  
“What?” Adam asked, voice soft, as if he was just realizing that Ronan had said something.  
His brows were kitted together, a little knot forming between them. There was blood drying on his bottom lip, blood from where he had kissed him. No... _Me,_ Ronan thought. When he kissed _me_. His pulse, somehow, quickened.

“You can go.” He said, a little more firmly. “Someone’s got to clean this up. Can’t leave it for the choir boys, you know.” It was clear that Ronan was for vying for a hint of humor, but neither of them were up for it.

“I can help.” Adam said, but it was a whisper, and he didn’t really sound too sure. In fact, he already sounded miles away.

Ronan ignored the sting. He was good at that.  
“No.” He said, with finally a bit of the Lynch bite in it. It felt good to be in control again. “Go!”

So Adam went.

Ronan slid to the floor and stared at the corpse...his corpse. He didn’t know what had him more riled, his would be death, or the almost row, or whatever that was with Adam, but he was betting it was the former. He took his hand away from his burning cheek and got to work.

 

Adam sat in his car outside St. Agnes for over an hour. He watched as Ronan Lynch’s shadow moved back and forth across the second floor stained glass window, and only three or four times, allowed himself to cry.

2  
That night as Ronan showered, he granted himself an extra session of self beratement. He felt he deserved it. He didn’t really wash, but rather stood there, his head bowed under the shower spray, rivers forming caverns through the crooks and hooks of his tattoo. There was a bang at the door. “You okay in there?” It was Gansey. He didn’t really sound worried, just curious. Ronan didn’t respond. All he could focus on where those eyes - Adams eyes, so sad and savage, and then, so deeply - what was it…sadness again?

 _Oh God!_ He thought. But it came out “WHAT THE FUCK!” His fist slamming into the tile wall in front of him.  
Gansey must’ve thought Ronan was talking to him because he said “That’s fine, no rush. Just thought the water must’ve gone cold twenty minutes ago.” It had.

With nothing less than a herculean effort, Ronan pulled himself out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He rubbed his hands roughly over his scalp and looked in the mirror.  
_What am I?_ he asked into the darkening night.

Across town in a Church attic another boy stares at his reflection and wonders the same thing.

 

That night Ronan dreamt he was in the shower again, but as the water sputtered from the faucet and hit his skin it turned red. The fluid came out of the wall as water, but as soon as the droplets touched him, they turned to blood. He wasn’t scared - he didn’t even move; he knew he was in a dream, and that Cabeswater was telling him something about himself, that he was a devil; that was probably it. His head hung low, and he let the warm fluid run over him.

There was a knock at the door and Ronan readied to hear Gansey’s voice. “Are you okay in there?” He couldn’t form a response though, because it wasn’t Ganseys voice at all that he heard. It was Adams.

The door handle turned and the room went cold. He felt exposed. He looked down at himself, he was a horror show. Ronan didn’t want anyone in this small room with him, especially not now. His hand shot out to turn off the blood water.  
“How about you wait for a fucking answer, _before_ coming in!” He snarled.  
Suddenly he was freezing. He reached for the towel that hung on the shower rod, but as he wrapped it around himself it turned to Ash. He was a Jackson Pollock of red and black gore.  
“Stop this.” Adam said in a voice both stern and gentle. “It’s enough now.”  
“Get out Parrish!” Ronan wined. He hated the way the words came out petulant, and with very little venom.

“Enough.” Adam said, a little firmer this time, and opened the shower curtain.  
Ronan could do nothing but stand there. He was fully exposed, and couldn’t hide from Adam any longer. He stood ridged like a dare; he looked like a God, or a devil, but Adam only looked into his eyes. All the exhaustion, shame and fear gone from his face. Adam looked - radiant. He shone from the inside out. He was powerful looking, beautiful – knowing, and it took all the fight out of Ronan. He wished he could shrink in size, and wash himself down the drain. Adam was a dazzling spectacle of light, and Ronan was shriveling mass of blood and ash. If it wasn’t so depressing, it’d almost be funny.

“Take it.” Adam said, and only then did Ronan realize he was handing him something. In his outstretched hand Adam offered...what was it…a bath robe? Yes, that’s what it was - a pristine, white bathrobe. Ronan took it, grateful to have something to cover his stained body. He shrugged his arms into the wide openings; it was soft and warm. He let out an audible sigh. Then immediately felt not just a little guilty over ruining such a thoughtful, clean, gift.  
He tied the robe tight around his waist, happy for the pressure- it grounded him. He was getting lost in this dream. He said the word out loud. “D r e a m.”  
He looked back at Adam.  
“You’re just a dream Parrish.” Ronan said. He needed to feel steady. He needed to feel in control.  
“Am I?” Adam asked, smiling. “But, isn’t that better now?”

Adam reached for Ronan’s wrist with one hand, and pushed the sleeve of the robe up with his other hand. Where Ronan’s skin had been bloodied red, and black, he was now clean. The porcelain skin of his arm peeked out at him from under the now darkly colored robe. It looked as if he too glowed from the inside. Ronan looked down at the robe in shock. It looked like an erratic tie-dye of deepest black and ruby red.

Adam took his hand and placed it over Ronan's where it rested on his arm. Ronan looked up and into his eyes again, not nervous, just intrigued. He looked so real now, less dream Adam and more _his_ Adam. He pulled away a little when his mind touched on the word, _his._  
Adam just smiled and gripped Ronan's hand tighter, then, with his Henrietta accent on full blast he crooned “It doesn't have to be this hard you know.” His face opened up into an easy, honest smile. Ronan's heart ached while looking at him, while being this close to him.  
“I _see_ you Ronan.” Adam said.  
“Yeah okay…got it.” Ronan snipped, armor up, as always.

Adams eyebrow raised, almost imperceptibly, but then released Ronan’s arm and walked back toward the door. Before closing it behind him, he peeked back in, a sly grin on his lips. “Oh, and I’m going to want that robe back.” Ronan just nodded, and the door shut with a quite _thwack._

___________________________________________________________________________

3

Ronan woke up the next morning in a tangled mess of sheets and (he realized with horror) the tie-dyed bath robe. He felt like being out of breath was becoming a _thing_.  
Ronan knew he would have to give the robe to back to Adam...that’s what the dream said right? It must be what Cabeswater wanted, but did he really _have_ to listen, or did he just want to? Ronan had never been able to resist a dare, and that’s exactly what this felt like. The tense moment that had passed between them yesterday in the church was all Ronan could think about, well, that, and now this mind fuck of a dream. “God Dammit!” He yelled. _Kerah!_ shrieked Chainsaw nervously from her perch on the other side of the room. “Good morning sunshine” he heard Noah say from the other side of the wall. Ronan dropped his head back down on his mattress exhausted. Really, sleep was a useless thing for him, useless for rest at least. He reached his arm out for the clock. It was already 11am. Adam would be at work then. Good. Chainsaw flew to him, and nuzzled herself into the soft folds of the robe. Ronan was appalled to see that he was stilled wrapped in this dream thing, and jump out of bed, almost falling over himself, in his attempt to hop and tear himself out of it. The robe fell to the floor, and chainsaw sat in its pile like a nest. Ronan sat on the side of his bed, head in his hands, and tried to think of what to do.

Gansey got home while Ronan was trying to take the fastest shower in the history of time, and when he called out “How’s it going in there?” Ronan’s heart almost slammed out of his chest. “Can’t a guy have one fucking minute of peace?” Ronan yelled. “Sure thing then.” Gansey called back. “Breakfast, er…(He thought better of this term) we’ll call it lunch, is in the brown bag on the table when you come out. Your welcome.”  
Ronan sighed loudly, and worked to calm his heart rate and shaky hands.

Noah was handing Gansey paints as they worked on the cereal box town together, and called out “Rough morning?” His eyes glittering and a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Gansey didn’t even look up. He was too absorbed in gluing a difficult roof pitch.

Ronan took the brown paper bag and sat on the floor with them. He ate without enthusiasm.  
“I’m going to need your help with some things today.” Gansey told him.  
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Ronan asked. Having to metally remind himself that it wasn’t Gansey that he was mad at.  
“Well, for starters your room stinks...too much dream stuff getting made and caught and.."  
“And killed ” Noah said under his breath  
Gansey kept talking, silencing Noah with a look. I know we’ve all been busy, but Noah and I have to live here too, and it’s getting harder to ignore the particular fragrance.  
“Can Noah even smell anymore?” Ronan asked?  
This thought caught Gansey’s interest, and they both paused to look at Noah.  
“That’s real messed up guys.” Noah replied, and stalked off back to his room.  
“What a freaking weirdo.” Ronan said. Gansey just nodded, but said nothing.  
After Ronan finished his meal Gansey continued. “Still, the point stands. Laundry today. Ok?” It wasn’t really a question, but Gansey’s impeccable manners wouldn’t allow him to phrase it any other way. And really, Ronan couldn’t argue that spilled beer, blood stains, and carrion feathers were the most appealing scent.

“F -Ine.” Ronan said, drawing out the vowels to indicate that the chore was putting a large time dent into his day. 

Ronan shoved the tangle of sheets and clothes and a particularly dark colored robe into the state of the art washing machine at Monmouth Manufacturing. If he used both hands and packed it in real tight, the door would close. He sat on the floor in front of the machine, watching the bubbles start to form.  He needed a moment to think; he needed to get out of the house!  For a secound he let himself miss Kavinsky before burrying it in the back of his mind, at least he would have been good for a race, but today there was nothing for Ronan but his thoughts, and they jeered at him, ate at him. He watched the tunnel go round and round and round, with the deep red of the robe always making its way back to the front, in a splash of crimson, to slap against the glass.

He wanted to ignore it. He wanted things the way they were. He wanted to stop seeing that robe (maybe could he burn it?) he wanted to stop seeing Adam’s eyes alight with fire, Adam’s lips, how they brushed against his own pale forehead, the feeling of Adam’s legs pushed up against his, Adam’s breath on his neck, his first over his heart. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the run away thoughts. Ronan just wished it was over. He _needed_ it to be over, and that’s how he decided. That must be the purpose of the dream, and the dream robe; It was forcing him to acknowledge it, deal with the inevitable rejection, and then, eventually, hopefully, they could all move one. At Least Adam would go to college, right? Then maybe he could forget those eyes.

______________________________________________________________________________  
4  
Adam had just gotten out of the shower when there was a knock at the door. He threw on a T-shirt just in case it was Mrs. Ramirez and then went to open the door.  
“Shower?” Ronan asked. “Of-fucking-course.” Adam thought this was an odd way to say _hello,_ but moved aside to let Ronan in, without commenting on it.

“Hey, Ronan. What’s going on?” Adam said as he walked back into the room, avoiding hitting his head on the low ceiling, and signaling Ronan to duck as well.

Ronan rubbed his hands over his head, his elbow hitting the ceiling anyway. He glanced up and scowled at it.  
“Listen man...about yesterday.”  
Adam looked away, were his ears pink? Ronan wondered.  
But Adam just help up a hand. “We don’t need to talk about that.”  
“Good.” Ronan said. And Adam could see how visibly he relaxed. Ronan sat on the bed, then thought better of it and stood back up again.  
“So, I...I guess I have something for you.”  
Adam’s eyebrow tipped up, and Ronan just threw the robe unceremoniously at him.  
Adam hung the thing open in his hands. “A bath robe?” He questioned. “What did you – did you tie-dye this?”  
Ronan let out a quick breathy “Heh!” But it was less laugh and more resentment.

Adam turned it over in his hands. It was soft, luxurious even. The colors were rich. It must have been very expensive. Obviously, Adam couldn’t accept it.

“And, before you go rejecting it, It’s already yours. So it’s not really a gift, it’s a kind of just a return.” Adam shouldn’t have been surprised that Ronan could predict his thoughts so well, but sometimes he still was.

“What do you mean?” Adam asked, curiosity peeking his interest.  
Ronan jutted his chin out, widening his eyes exaggeratedly in a face that asked “Really? You aren’t getting this yet?!”  
Adam, too curious to remember he should be resisting the gift, slid his arms through the robe, letting it hang heavily on his shoulders. He breathed in deep. It smelled good too, like Ronan and detergent.  
Ronan’s mouth went dry watching Adam handle the robe, and remembering the dream.

“So….it’s a dream thing?”  
“DING DING DING!” Ronan said, making a little circles in the air with his finger.

“It was mine in the dream then.” Adam paused for a second realizing that Ronan must have been dreaming about him in some capacity.  
“I have good taste.” He put his hands in the deep ruby pockets.

Ronan kept his eyes on him, but scoffed. “Yeah, well, it was white when you gave it to me- unfortunately we had a little accident together.”

“I think I like it better dark.” Adam continued. “So, I guess _you_ have good taste.”  
“Was there ever any doubt?” Ronan grinned.  
"Yes." Adam mumbled.

“Let me get dressed. Do you have to go right now, or can you hang a second.”  
“I can wait.” Ronan sat down to emphasize.

 

A minute later, Adam came out with jeans and socks, and sat next to Ronan looking resolved.  
“I’m sorry too...about yesterday. It was my fault too. I just get so mad. It’s as if it takes me over.” He looked at Ronan then from under his long dark eyelashes. “I hate fighting with you. I don’t want to fight. Are we okay?”

“We’re okay.” Ronan said, but it’s not what he wanted to say. He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to reach out and comfort Adam. He wanted to run his hands over his shoulders, tilt his chin up with hand, but he couldn’t do that either. Never could he do that. He wanted to say “It felt like there was something…there yesterday. Am I wrong?” But he didn’t say that either. What he said was “Okay, well enough of this shit. I’ll see you later Parrish.” He jumped up and tried to make a hurried exit. He had his hand on the door to leave, hating himself more than ever, when Adam said, “Wait Ronan...you said the robe was white when I gave it to you….what happened to it?”  
Ronan felt the weight fall back on his shoulders. He slouched under it.

“It was blood" he said.  
Well, blood and Ash.”  
He forced himself to look back at Adam who looked more concerned than shocked.  
“From what...er, I mean from who?” Adam asked.  
Ronan released the door and turned back to Adam.  
“I was in the shower..” as he said this he flapped his hands a little as if to say _I know, I know,_ and _No,_ he would not take any questions, and was moving on thank you!  
“I was in the shower, but when the water touched me, it turned to blood. I tried to get out, but my towels turned to ash. Then you came in.” (Okay, Adams ears were definitely pink now.) Ronan continued in a voice that grew lower and softer. “And you gave me the robe, but it did something to me...It was white, and man, I was filthy, but then, we somehow….I don’t know!” He nearly shouted the last part. “Then I was clean and the robe was shit! _Hence_ (he said, with no small amount of sarcasm) the now red and black robe. But you said you wanted it back, so here it is!” Ronan looked worked up, and Adam could understand why, that dream - it was telling. It was a secret and a lie and the truth all muddled up into one terribly amazing thing.  
“Well, you have it back now! Thanks for the assistance!” Ronan hissed, and tried to make his way back to the door.

Adam thought that maybe, right in this moment, he was seeing Ronan, really and truly, for the first time in his life. It couldn’t have been easy for Ronan to admit that dream. To bring him the dream thing. He could have just burned it….but he didn’t. Another tell, Adam thought.

Without letting himself overthink it, and without worrying for once in his life about the consequences, he walked up to Ronan and took his hand. Ronan looked up at him, his face heating up, but he tried to play it off, make it a joke. “Damn Parrish! It was just a robe, not a Prom ticket.”  
But Adam was calm.

“You can kiss me if you want to.”  
Ronan balked, his skin was fire engine red.  
“W-what!” He sputtered! Ronan looked around the room, as if Adam could be talking to anyone else, and then leaning back he asked again “What? What are you talking about?”  
“It doesn’t have to be this hard Ronan.” _There were those words again_ , Ronan thought. He felt like he might be sick, his whole body prickled, why was he so itchy?”

“I don’t know about you” Adam said, “but this past year I’ve learned a lot about myself. Maybe it’s Cabeswater, maybe it’s just feeling like I’m my own man for once in my life! But _I_ know who I am. Do you? Because I can see you Ronan.

Ronan’s breathing was heavy and erratic. _Is this a panic attack_ he wondered? But he stopped pulling away.  
Adam felt, no, sensed the infinitesimal amount that Ronan's body stilled and shifted back to him. He also knew that on the inside, Ronan would be frantic; this would be harder for him than anyone else for many reasons, but Adam, was tired of their denial and needed to know, one way or the other. With his Henrietta accent sweet and steady Adam leaned in and said, “If you don’t want me to, then tell me no.” But Adam prayed he wouldn’t. His entire body revved to life so quickly, and a low ache was starting in his groin. This need was so much more intense than he had ever felt before. Adam was so used to being tired, beaten down by work and family, and responsibility, but this...this! His body was electric, charged and wild, and he needed more of it. He needed to chase this feeling forever, and all roads lead to Ronan. His strong arms, and those lean, taut legs. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them since yesterday, and he could feel them again now, pressed against his own. He reached his hand, slowly back up to Ronan’s chest. It was heaving, but tight and burning hot. Adam looked into Ronan’s wild eyes one last time. Whole forests, whole worlds burned inside them. Then he looked at his lips...the ones he’d seen turned up in a snarl so many times before now looked so pliable, wet...wanting. _Thank God._ He thought, and leaned in.  
“Adam, n..” Adam didn’t listen, he knew he should have, but he also knew, that neither one of them would ever let it get to this point again, it was now or never; so he kissed him then. He had intended this kiss to be chaste, a suggestion, a maybe. But when his mouth finally made contact with Ronan’s whole stars burned between then. He felt Ronan’s body twitch and then go a little slack. But he didn’t pull away. Ronan was kissing him back, and Adam needed more. All of the days and nights of pent up anger at himself, questioning, the hurriedly hidden thoughts, were breaking loose now. He was coming undone.  
More, was all he could think. Just More.

“Adam” Ronan whimpered between their smashed lips. Not _Parrish,_ but Adam. It stirred him. Hearing his name said in a tone so fragile he never thought it could come from Ronan Lynch, he couldn’t bare it. Everything was too strong. He pushed into Ronan, needing to feel all of the lean length of his body against his own. Ronan’s back pressed against the closed door. And Adam’s pushed Ronan’s lips apart with his tongue. More, his brain chanted. More.

Ronan’s heart was pounding. He could feel it drumming through his body. Panting Adam said.  
“I’m so glad you came over.” Ronan’s tongue snaked across his bottom lip. Adams knees buckled, but he rallied, pushing himself back up, dragging himself harder against Ronan’s body.  
“I’m so glad you didn’t leave.” He continued. Ronan sighed, his hands splayed flat against the door behind him.  
“Touch me, Ronan.” Adam pleaded. “It can’t be just me. It can't be.”  
It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. But if there was room for any conscious thought left in Ronan’s head at the moment, it was, _this can’t be real. Its not you he wants. It can’t be._  
“R o n a n.” Adam growled his name out slowly. Something had come over him. He knew it must be effecting Ronan too, but he was still holding back. Adam pulled his body just slightly away from Ronan, then slammed himself back into him, trying to shock him to life. Ronan gasped, but was already retreating again. “Give me your hands.” Adam demanded. Without waiting, he took Ronans writs in his hands, and wrapped his around him. Then Adam kissed his neck, his collarbone, his jaw. How could a man like Ronan Lynch smell and taste this sweet, he wondered.

Ronan was lost now. As Adam kissed his neck, his jaw, nibbled at his lips, he couldn’t stop his hands from exploring the wide expanses, the hills and valleys of Adams back. He was stronger than he expected, muscles cording around each other under his skin. He wanted to feel it. Ronan slipped his hands under Adam’s shirt and dug his fingers into flesh, pulling him closer.  
“Yes.” Adam said heady and dark into Ronan’s ear. The heat was too much. Surely this….this would kill him. But it didn’t, and somehow Ronan managed to hold up to the assault. His body told him what to do and where to kiss and squeeze and hold. Their sighs and moans intertwined, making a chorus of their pleasure.

How would they ever stop Ronan wondered? Should they stop? He muttered the word “Stop." He hated himself for it. Yet he heard himself saying it again.  
“Stop!” A little louder this time. As if coming out of a spell Adam backed away from him, eyes cloudy. They just stared at each other, both panting and flushed a delicious color of pink.  
Adam didn’t know what to say.  
“Fine, Parrish!” Ronan growled. His voice was too shaky. He tried to at least stand straight, but failed. He knees betrayed him. “It’s clear now. I guess you know, I don't know, maybe you’ve always known, but you’ve been _it_ for me for a while. Maybe I haven’t always been clear about that, but..”  
Adam laughed, loud, hearty and rich.  
_“Clear?_ Are you kidding me right now?”  
Ronan’s voice was rising now, getting louder and faster with each word. “Yeah well…I got to be honest Parrish, I never expected _this_! (He waved his hands around, not able to put their actions into words.) “I may not have been a fucking crystal ball or anything, but you! Who knows what you are!”

This should have stung Adam, but he didn’t care. He stepped towards Ronan again, already itching to have his hands racing back over his body. Ronan eyed him nervously, his brows pinching together questioning. He took an unconscious step back.

“Don’t you know?” Adam asked.  
Ronan forced himself to stand still then, refusing to flinch, or give Adam another inch as he stalked up to him. Adam’s eyes were intent and designing as he gently put both his hands on either side of Ronan’s neck. _Oh,_ Adam sighed. Just the touch of Ronan’s skin was like balm to his hands, and Ronan couldn't help leaning into the touch. His face dropping a little into Adam's hands. Then ever so slightly tilting his head to find him, Adam used his mouth to part Ronan’s lips again, his tongue and breath invading him. He wanted to take him over. Have him everywhere. He could have never imagined how fucking sweet Ronan Lynch would be. A revelation! All of this.

Ronan pushed him away again. Hard. And a flicker of doubt ran though Adam. "WHAT?" Adam practically shouted, annoyed to be interrupted again. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? But he could see different desires warring within Ronan. His facial features were chaos. A cubist painting of fear, hope, desire and mistrust.

Ronan watched Adam just as closely, his arms still slightly up, holding the ghost of Ronan’s throat between his hands...he looked like he was burning up, throbbing even. Adam Parrish in full lust mode was a sight. It was so much of what Ronan wanted that it was painful to just look at him, to not reach out and touch him. Ronan was breaking apart.

“Is this what you want?” Ronan asked finally. Ferociously. He layered aggression over the other emotions no one but Adam would spot.  
“Because it’s just me! Like _ME_ Man! And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m not fucking anything like little Miss Sargent! I’m just….” He stopped. He couldn’t say anything more. It was too much. More than he ever expected.

Adam dropped his hands to his sides. He took a deep breath and then said in the most reassuring voice he could manage (with his insides pulsing the way they were),

“Ronan. I don’t know what you think that was” he said, gesturing to their very hot, if not very short make out session, “But did it seem, like I wasn’t sure? Did it seem like I was wanting anyone else? I mean, just fucking look at me! I’m a God-dammed mess!”  
He made a rude gesture pointing out the very noticeable pitch to his pants.

Ronan blushed, but only said “Watch your fucking mouth Parrish. We’re in a church.”  
“Ronan…” Adam growled. It was plea, and Ronan could hear it.

He moved away from the door, walked over to the bed and sat down.  
Adam looked anxious, needy, and nervous.  
“Well,” Ronan said, smile like a dare, like a promise. “If you’re sure, then prove it.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Epilogue

 

Adam walked up to the end of the bed and sank to his knees in front of Ronan. He lifted his arms up over his head and Ronan obligingly pulled his shirt off. Then Ronan lifted his own. Adam returned the favor, tracing his fingers over the now exposed tattoo snaking around Ronan’s shoulders and neck.  
“Did it hurt? I’ve always wanted to ask.”  
Ronan just shrugged, which meant it did.  
“Can I kiss it?” Adam asked.  
Heat roared inside Ronan again, a furnace being turned up to 1000.  
“Are you really asking me this time? You didn’t wait for an answer before.”  
“You were going to say _no_ that time.” Adam said, no shame in his voice.  
“I could say _no_ now” Ronan reminded him.  
‘’Yes, but I don’t think you will.” Adam’s smile wasn’t cocky, just happy, so Ronan nodded.

“Lay down” Adam said, but not without tenderness.  
Ronan lay flat on his stomach, the coolness of the sheets felt amazing on his hot skin. Adam laid behind him, with fingers so light they could have been feathers, he traced the lines of Ronan’s tattoo, bending down continually to kiss one part here, or lick one part there. Ronan lay with his eyes closed, thinking this may be the closest he’d ever make it to heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

Hey Everyone! I tried to make this easy to follow, but if there are any problems with following POV or anything like that PLEASE let me know! Trying to get better at this! All comments welcome.


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